


Overtime

by theescapist99



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, HOORAY, M/M, Nothing dark, and a nice ending, but other than that, i should get a gold star or something, im just saying, maybe just a dash of angst, so yeah theres brief mention of virgin sacrifices in here, this is probably the first smut ive written that has no rape in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theescapist99/pseuds/theescapist99
Summary: When Grindelwald starts experimenting with virgin sacrifices in an attempt to raise the undead, a worried Newt hopes to protect his assistant by relieving him of the one requirement of being a "virgin sacrifice". And the magizoologist knows there's only one man Credence would accept as his first.Poor Percival just wanted some time to himself after work.





	Overtime

“The hell are you doing here?”

Percival froze midway through approaching his front door, his hand grabbing his wand on reflex.

In the dim light of the street lamps, he had to squint to make sure he was seeing correctly. Sure, it had been a hard day – month – at work, but _surely_ his eyes weren’t tired enough to be hallucinating that Credence Barebone and Newton Scamander were standing on his doorstep at nine in the evening.

Newt, Percival only recognized through pictures – he had never actually met the man himself, so he could easily be mistaken on that account.

However, while Credence looked dramatically different from the malnourished young man he had last seen sulking around the New York streets, Percival could recognize the sharp cheekbones and the subtle hunch right away.

And considering that last Percival had heard, Newt Scamander had taken Credence in as an assistant, Percival could only assume that his guess at the identity of Credence’s company wasn’t incorrect.

It was certainly an awkward moment.

Percival had not heard from either individual and had never pondered what he might say if he did. As they had been reportedly spending their days wandering around Europe, he had never anticipated that he would have had to.

Percival _had_ struck a small friendship with Credence just before Grindelwald wreaked havoc upon the States, but based off the way Credence was looking everywhere except in his direction, Percival doubted that that counted much to the boy now.

Eventually, it was Newt who broke the tense silence.

“Hello Mr. Graves,” Newt nodded, his voice rather meek, “Very sorry to drop in like this but uh, we really need to speak with you… in private.”

“We?” Percival quirked a brow, and Newt grimaced slightly.

The red head turned around, twisting his head so that he looked back at Credence.

“Say hello, darling.”

And finally, Credence granted a glance in his direction.

Almost as soon as their eyes met, Credence turned a shade of red that was surprisingly visible in the fickle lighting outside.

Percival looked away then, a foreign and uncomfortable sensation beginning to stir inside him. Addressing Newt, he nodded curtly.

“Let’s go inside.”

 

* * *

 

 

At Newt’s request, Credence had retreated into the library – giving Newt and Percival some time to speak alone. Percival was bewildered by the secrecy, but he kept quiet as Credence showed himself out of the sitting room that was nearest the front door.

Even then, Newt waited until Credence must have walked a good distance away before he turned back to Percival, both men seated in armchairs in front of the cold and barren fireplace mantle.

“What is this about, Scamander?” Percival asked, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt. As much as he was happy to see Credence alive and well, and as much as he had been curious about the infamous magizoologist who saved New York, this was hardly great timing -- Percival was exhausted and was in _urgent_ need of a drink.

“Well,” Newt began, his eyes exploring the leather skin that covered the armrest of his chair rather than the scrutinizing gaze of the man across from him, “I’m sure you’ve heard about Grindelwald’s string of abductions in Europe.”

Percival sighed.

Of course he had heard.

It was a little difficult to ignore Grindelwald doing much of anything considering that it was MACUSA’s custody that Grindelwald had managed to break free from.

Every new headline that came with the dark wizard’s name – any mass murder, any break ins or break outs – has only been more salt in their wounded pride, salt that never seemed to end as of recently.

“What of them?” was all Percival said in response, having no time or energy for the scathing rant that the mere mention of Grindelwald’s name had triggered in his reeling mind.

“Well we believe he may be trying to track Credence down again… and use him for the same purpose he’s been using his other victims,” Newt spoke lowly, almost mumbling.

“You… you know of the intent Grindelwald had for the missing?” Percival straightened up a bit, his interest undeniably piqued.

They had all heard about the kidnappings -- and it was almost no doubt who was behind them.

But they had yet to figure out Grindelwald’s motives for them. None of the missing had turned up dead, so there was no one to even autopsy.

The 20 or so unfortunate souls had just vanished and weren’t heard from again.

What was even more bewildering – however -- was that there appeared to be no correlation between the missing.

The first few had been quite young, so they had speculated that perhaps Grindelwald was seeking out potential obscurials again. It would make sense, since Credence had so spectacularly shattered the previously held belief that obscurials could be no older than 10 or so.

But eventually, older wizards were reported missing too – the eldest being 46. After the first middle-aged wizard to vanish had disappeared, the only guess they had at the motive suddenly seemed like a long shot.

And so -- for Newt to state that they worried the dark wizard maybe after Credence for a known purpose – that was very interesting indeed.

Newt’s lips pulled upward, but again his expression looked more like a grimace than a smile.

“Mr. Graves… I really must insist you keep the information I am about to indulge between us for the time being. Not even Tina knows we’re here.”

Newt tentatively met his gaze at the request, almost as though he was trying to see if Percival might have his fingers crossed behind his back.

Unwavering from the stare, Percival obliged in a firm tone.

 “Fine. It’s just between us. Just get to the point, yeah?”

Newt sighed, nodded, and finally continued.

“With Professor Dumbledore’s help…. Oh, erm… Professor Dumbledore is a Professor at Hog—“

“I know who Albus Dumbledore is, Scamander!”

“Oh, yes, okay…” Newt almost flinched at the snappy interruption, but thankfully recovered quicker before Percival could get around to apologizing.

“…. With Professor Dumbledore’s help we’ve been able to find a pattern between all the missing. And um, well… they were all virgins, Mr. Graves.”

Despite having nothing in his mouth or throat, Percival could feel himself choke. It was quite the effort to compose himself before he repeated the word to make sure he had heard correctly.

“ _Virgins_?”

“Yes,” Newt said with a dark expression coming over his naturally chipper appearance.

“But why would…” Percival began to ask just the first of a plethora of questions spreading through his mind like wildfire – but Newt answered before he could find the words.

“He has been using virgin sacrifices as part of a very old, very dark ritual that is said to raise the dead,” Newt explained, “We believe it’s all very experimental, but Professor Dumbledore tells me that he has already succeeded with one or two of the missing.”

Percival was honestly stunned.

He of all people knew of the malevolence Gellert Grindelwald was capable of – but this almost sounded preposterous.

Seriously?

_Virgin sacrifices?_

_Necromancy?_

Thankfully Percival could restrain his gradually rising temper.

He knew if there was any truth to this at all, it would be worth exploring.

Percival was almost ashamed to admit how desperately he wanted Grindelwald to die by his hands… as in specifically _his_.

It was almost amusing that Grindelwald left so quickly back to Europe after he had broken out of prison.

Perhaps, Grindelwald knew of just how much Percival thirsted for his blood.

Yet Grindelwald’s evasion of justice only made Percival thirst that much more.

And one day, Percival will quench that thirst… or die trying.

To that much, Percival vowed.

“So, what was it that you needed me for, Scamander?” Percival ventured the question, wanting to get down to the bottom line so that his unexpected guests could leave and Percival could be left alone to speculate and mull over this new information.

For as much as Newt seemed to beat around the bush, he was surprisingly blunt with his answer.

“Well… we are requesting that you make it so Credence is no longer a virgin.”

Percival could only stare blankly at the magizoologist for the minute or so that followed the admission of their true reason for this visit.

“Excuse me?” Percival finally said after it was clear Newt wasn’t going to clarify that that had been a rather tasteless joke.

“It might deter…” Newt began. But this time, Percival held up a hand to stop him.

“Why don’t you hire a prostitute to do it?” Percival asked slowly, feeling heat rising to his face already.

It was hardly a great suggestion -- but it certainly seemed liked the easiest course of action for the situation.

It was also something to consider since prostitution had seen a huge rise in popularity in recent years. It was like alcohol with the No Majs… it was illegal to do it, but everyone was doing it regardless.

Newt shook his head, “No Mr. Graves… Credence is an invert.”

“Oh…”

Percival tried to seem more surprised – _felt_ like he should be more surprised – but in truth he was somehow not surprised at all.

Percival always had wondered if it was signs of a small crush he had seen in their short time together – or simply the reactions of a boy desperate for a gentle touch or a small smile.

Across from him, Newt watched Percival in silence.

He was perhaps looking for any signs of disgust on Percival’s face, not knowing how Percival felt about inversion. It wasn’t unreasonable to expect a bad reaction… many people, both magical and non, looked down on homosexuality as an abomination and a perversion.

Percival sucked in a breath and then tried to shift the focus, shooting the question back at Newt.

“Why don’t you do it then?”

It was Newt’s turn to flush at last, a crimson blush blossoming beneath the light freckles he shared with his elder brother.

“I tried, actually…” Newt confessed sheepishly, “… but, well… he wants _you_ Mr. Graves.”

“Why?” Percival asked, honestly baffled. Percival had not seen anyone in that way in quite some time, and the idea that someone felt desire for him sounded truthfully bizarre.

Newt shrugged, “I wouldn’t know Mr. Graves. To be perfectly honest, Credence has always been very taken with you… he brings you up quite often, even now.”

“Wow, I see…” Percival said awkwardly, unsure as to how to react to the information.

“So… will you do it?” Newt asked, and Percival took mental note of the fact that Scamander had yet to even ask him if he was an invert as well.

The magizoologist was either very quick to assume, _incredibly_ observant… or Tina Goldstein had a big mouth. And Percival would be willing guess which of the three was most likely.

There was another few moments of tense silence before Percival asked unabashedly, “Well... does Credence _want_ me to do it? Why isn’t he the one asking me? What are you, his pimp?”

Newt glared, “I think if you know Credence at all, you know the answer to that question full well Mr. Graves.”

Percival for a moment imagined Credence propositioning anyone for such a thing, and he supposed the Brit had a point.

Still, it felt odd to be discussing such an intimate subject without the receiver of said intimacy not even present.

“I’ll… I’ll _talk_ to him.” Percival grunted finally, “Alone, if you will.”

And Newt just nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

Oh, boy.

If Percival had thought the mere appearance of these men had been a doozy of a nasty surprise to come home to, he could almost find ironic humor in the situation he had found himself in now.

Newt had opted to wait outside the brownstone, leaving Credence and Percival to themselves on the cushy couch in the sitting room.

Credence had barely said a word -- but already he looked both enchanted and petrified by Percival’s mere presence all at the same time.

And all Percival could think to ask, breaking the silence that was bordering on three whole minutes long, was:

“Why me, kid?”

“Huh?” Credence jolted upright, visibly startled.

Percival tried to mold his expression into a compassionate one, a mask he hardly ever bothered to wear so it probably looked fake or creepy as hell.

Credence was already quite rattled and Percival just wished he would relax… but it was hard to calm the boy when Percival was feeling quite rattled himself.

Rattled and confused.

 “Scamander said you… liked me,” Percival elaborated, the words feeling strange on his tongue. “Why is that, Credence? After everything that happened, I thought you probably hated me now… not that I’d blame you. But it was part of why I never tried to reach out to you after… well, you know. I wanted to give you some space.”

“Oh…” Credence’s expression softened slightly, and the blush crept back into his cheeks.

Under the proper lighting of the brownstone, Percival could finally see all the small differences that made Credence look so different than how he had looked way back when – from the nearly shoulder length long black hair to the eyes that sparkled just a bit brighter.

He really was quite a beautiful thing.

“I could never hate you, Mr. Graves…” Credence said softly, not meeting the stare that currently undressed and analyzed him, “You were my first friend…”

Somberly, Percival shook his head.

“That’s not a reason, Credence,” Percival gently scolded, desperately hoping that Credence wouldn’t take the lecture the wrong way. “You must only trust those who you know very well, not simply everyone who _doesn’t_ harm you.”

Because really, wasn’t that exactly how all this happened?

Percival had formed a small bond with Credence before Grindelwald, yes. Yet it had hardly been a friendship deserving of such devotion as Credence seemed to have for him.

So when Grindelwald donned his skin and mannerisms, Credence had been so easy to manipulate – _because_ of that undeserved trust.

And after all that, Credence was sitting next to him now – longing and hungry for Percival’s touch.

It wasn’t even an assumption, or necessarily the things Newt claimed… Percival could literally _feel_ the yearning pulsating from the boy’s essence, like a stomach could be heard growling for food.

“But it’s not just that…” Credence muttered, his voice barely audible, “… I just… I’ve always wanted you to be my first. I’ve… I’ve thought about it since we knew each other… before…”

Percival crossed his legs as he felt light movement from beneath the fabric of his pants.

He looked over at the younger man, who was picking at the crack between the sofa cushions, his face now beet red.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re asking, Credence.”

Credence looked up then. Despite all the body language that showed nervousness and fear, Percival found a sort of defiance dancing within the dark depths of the younger man’s pupils.

Breathlessly, Credence whispered the words like a question.

“Try me?”

 

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

“Is this okay?”

“Yes…”

“Are _you_ okay?”

“ _Yes_ , Mr. Graves!”

From where the boy was spread out on the bed, laid out on his bare stomach, Credence twisted his head around and shot the older man a slightly annoyed expression.

Percival, who knelt over the boy with fingers covered in lube, could not help but smile in response.

The younger man’s impatience was almost cute.

“Sorry,” Percival shrugged, “Just making sure.”

He re-inserted two lube covered fingers, pushing them gently into the anal cavity, and Credence moaned loudly into the pillows.

Percival’s own cock had gone full mast some time ago, without having really been touched. It was these damn noises the boy made – the moans and groans that were filled with such desperate want but also the discomfort of such an unfamiliar and powerful sensation.

If Credence had the sexual tolerance for it, Percival thought he could play with Credence all night and before long he’d burst from the sounds alone.

Percival tried to remind himself that this was supposed to be a request made as a safety measure rather than a hot, steamy night of love making – although it was rather interesting that Newt was nowhere to be found after he had stepped outside. Still, he tried to remember that this was a favor… no, a duty.

Which was fine and all -- because otherwise Percival would have to accept the notion that he was spending his Thursday evening fucking an abused boy half his age, and that simply was _not_ something Percival felt equipped to deal with for the time being.

It’s just for Credence’s safety -- that’s all.

By slipping his fingers in and out of this young man’s unexplored anal cavity, Percival was merely doing his job as a protector of the wizarding community.

Yes.

_Safety._

Percival brought the tip of his penis to the younger man’s crack, and Percival could feel the boy tense beneath him. The older man used one hand to align his erection properly, and awkwardly he used the other to try and grip one of Credence’s arms in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

“Shhh…” Percival hushed him as he felt the tip wedge into the small brim of Credence’s asshole.

Credence was already beginning to squirm, and Percival only then realized that the boy was softly crying.

“Do you want me to stop?” Percival asked gently.

Credence did not say anything in response, but after a moment he shook his head as though to say no. 

And so -- Percival thrusted himself inside the boy, and they both cried out in shameful yet uncontrollable pleasure.

“Credence, are you…”

Credence had buried his face into the nearest pillow to muffle his scream, but Percival still saw him nod weakly. Taking in a deep breath, Percival reminded himself that the longer he dragged this out, the worse it was likely to be for the boy.

He moved around inside the boy’s tight orifice, savoring the wetness of the lubrication rubbing against his dick in a hole so small.

Eventually Credence’s screams turned back into something more like moans, especially once Percival’s thrusting had found a rhythm.

Percival lowered himself so that he lay on top of Credence’s back, his arms coming around Credence’s trembling body and enveloping the younger man into a firm embrace as their bodies merged together in an unholy and sinful union.

“You’re doing so great….” Percival said into the boy’s right ear, “… you _are_ so great….”

Credence gasped between his moans, one of his hands coming up to grip one of Percival’s wrists.

“Oh, Mr. Graves…” Credence half-moaned, half-sobbed beneath him, “Thank you so much…”

Much sooner than he had anticipated or hoped, Percival burst inside the boy – screaming louder than he could remember screaming in some time as he did so.

He laid still on top of Credence as he allowed his semen to pulsate out in waves, savoring the euphoria that washed over him like a high tide.

“Are you alright, Credence?” Percival managed to ask between pants and soft moans of his own.

Credence looked back at him, his eyes still regarding him with that same undeserved endearment.

“I feel amazing Mr. Graves… th- thank you again.”

Percival shook his head.

“No, thank you my boy.”

“For what?” Credence asked quizzically as he flipped over so that he laid on his back.

Percival shrugged. He laid back down next to Credence and placed a sweaty arm around the boy’s small and bony frame.

“For giving me another chance, I suppose. Not everyone has…” Percival mused aloud as he recalled the wary looks he still caught in the glances of close friends and colleagues.

Credence did not say anything in response to that, but after a few moments of a much more relaxed silence, he asked, “So… I’m not a virgin anymore?”

Percival looked over so that their eyes met. Credence was looking at him with a naivety that was truly adorable in a sense, but rather scary in a different sense. Percival worried at the thought of anyone taking advantage of that child-like trust -- especially with the destructive power that lay beneath that trust, just waiting for it to shatter and unleash.

“Maybe you should spend a couple more nights here, just to be sure…” Percival suggested with a small smile.

And from the way Credence’s face lit up, the younger man did not have to answer in order to express that he was in total agreement.

 

 


End file.
